Heart Notes
by ViciousVillaniousVictorian
Summary: Brick, a young, aspiring pianist finds his wife growing more and more distant by the day. Not wanting her distant nature to ruin his son's life, he tries everything to be the perfect father. But a child needs a mother. Is his son's teacher the most suitable for the role? Rated T. Blossick. Previously known as ' Play the notes of my heart'
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is the rewritten version of what I wrote back when I was 14. Previously called ' Play the notes of my heart' .Enjoy! Thank you so much for the reviews.**

Brick stirred the old mug, the warmth provided to him by the steam arising from the hot coffee pleasant to his body. It was considerably cold, even though it was early November, and he wondered how they were going to cope with the coming December.

It was their first time in this house, and although much more spacious, he almost wished for the last one which was much warmer, with an old heater that worked only half the time. The keyword is almost, because despite having a heater, the other facilities were terrible and the landlord was even worse. A thin man with a scarred face, he was greedy for money and often demanded that he pay the rent much more than the originally set value.

The landlord of the house they currently reside in is much better. He no doubt likes money, yet he is a rather amicable man; he doesn't attempt to change the rent nor did he complain when he paid the rent a few days later than he was supposed to. If only, he added a heater to this house. He will have to talk to him about it before the cold gets worse.

He only hoped that his son could bear the cold until then. Or that his wife would stop complaining.

Sighing at the thought of his wife, he wondered where she was now.

 _Probably having the time of her life, flirting and having sex with other men..._

It didn't matter to Brick, that his wife was completely ignoring and doing what she should do with only him with other men...well, he was rather bothered by it, but he had gotten used to it or pretended that he had. However, he only wished that she would give their son the attention that he needs. What every child needs from their mother.

Love.

But to Berserk Plutonium Jojo, Berserk Plutonium to all the other men that was not him, giving the love that a young child such as Blaze needs was barely possible. They say that a mother can never forget their child, but to Berserk it was all possible. Brick had often wondered if she had ever loved Blaze?

Her actions tell him that she did not care, but Brick still hoped. Hoped that their family would be alright. Hoped that she and himself can go back to the wat they were when they were teenagers. When they were young and in love.

Sighing once again, he grabbed hold of the mug, and left the kitchen, climbing up the stairs to the room where his son sleeps. As he nears the room, he hears the sounds of what is unmistakeably the TV. His son's room was the only one that held a Tv, considering the fact that he was the only one who watches it and Blaze took it as the perfect opportunity to watch all his favourite cartoons. Right now, he was watching Garfield. Brick could identify the sound of the animated cat's voice a mile away. God, he hated that cat.

Opening the door, Brick entered the room unnoticed by his son, who was too engrossed by that annoying cat , and swiftly grabbed the remote and pressed the 'On/Off' button. The cat disappeared only to be replaced by a black screen, and a yell of protest was heard.

" Daddy! I was watching that! "

" Yeah, well, you are no more, " he said as he sat down on the bed next to him.

Brick then proceeded to hand his son the coffee, the only warmth he could provide him aside from the thick, scratchy blankets. Blaze glared at him, before he took the mug and drank from it, holding it with both of his little hands. He stared at his son's fingers. They certainly belonged to a musician, for sure. His mind ventured to the thoughts of what his son would one day become, a doctor? lawyer? teacher?

Did he have money to pay for the education that any well paid job requires?

" I don't want to go to sleep. "

Brick turned his gaze towards him. His son handed him the empty mug, before looking at the wall in front of him, not daring to look at Brick's stern eyes, lest he crumble his resolve .

" What do you mean you don't want to go to sleep. Of course you need to go to sleep. "

Blaze pouted.

" I don't want to ."

" It doesn't matter if you want to or you don't. I say you go to sleep, you go to sleep."

Blaze turned his head around and glared at Brick. Brick sighed inwardly.

 _Not this again..._

He was too tired to deal with stubborn children.

" Blaze, baby, it's past 11. "

" So...?"

" So you should go to sleep. "

" No."

" Yes."

" No."

" Yes."

" No."

" No."

" Yes."

Blaze blinked as if realizing his mistake and groaned before slumping on the bed, dragging the bedsheet with him. A grumpy " Fine." was heard.

" Good boy, " Brick said as he smiled and ruffled the pouting child's hair. He stared at his for a few more minutes, thinking of how innocent and sweet their child looked, and of just why his wife couldn't see that.

He needed to wash the mug before it was infiltrated by ants. He stood up to head to the kitchen but a little tug on his shirt stopped him. Turning to look around, he found Blaze staring at him with wide, innocent eyes, using the weapon known as ' puppy dog eyes' to its full mode.

" Can you sleep here with me daddy? "

How could Brick resist those eyes?

" Of course Blaze, I'll just go wash this and come back, okay? "

When Blaze nodded, Brick smiled once more at him before heading to the kitchen. He washed the mug, placed it on the stand, and went to Blaze's room.

The child was 7, an appropriate age to be sleeping alone, but often Brick still found himself sleeping next to Blaze. He was only a child after all. The least Brick could do was to show his son that he loved him, even though his mother might not. Brick hugged Blaze to his chest and closed his eyes.

" Good night, daddy. "

" Good night, Blaze."

Berserk did not come home that night.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you to blossom 782, Kristiane143, Guest and Wise Owl for the reviews.**

 **Enjoy!**

.

Brick woke up by the sound of the telephone downstairs. In any normal circumstances, the sound of a ringing telephone wouldn't have been heard by a sleeping man, however, Brick had had a very light sleep, his dreams evaded by the sights of his wife leaving them for another man. She was already doing that to some extent, not returning home till a few days after her trips.

Of course, they were not business trips. She doesn't have a job. She doesn't do jobs. She hates working. Brick remembers her once saying that she would marry a filthy rich man so that she would never have to work. This was in high school, before they were dating and Brick was still attempting to woo her. The moment he had heard that, he vowed that he would be a successful, rich man, worthy of Berserk's hand in marriage.

The circumstances however, made it otherwise. Berserk did end up marrying him, but not because she wanted to. She only married him because of the nagging from her parents who claimed that they did not want to have a bastard grandchild.

The telephone still rang. Brick waited for it to stop ringing. The sound disappeared for a moment, before starting once again. Brick turned his head to look at his son, who had his little arms wrapped around Brick's torso, and his head in Brick's chest. He did not want to leave his son alone, given how innocent and adorable he looked , however he realized that the call could be important. Important, as in, would grant him money.

Gently, he unwrapped his son's arms from him and place his head on the pillow, before he quickly rushed downstairs to answer the call. Blaze was a heavy sleeper, so Brick didn't worry about waking him up.

Brick took hold of the receiver.

" Hello, is this Mr. Jojo speaking? "

The voice was unfamiliar, but professional. Brick hoped that it was the fancy French restaurant that he had played last Friday and not the police , for some unknown reason. The man sounded properly American, and not French, but he hoped.

" Yes, may I ask who this is?"

" I'm calling from ' _L'Hotel de Paris_ ' , Mr. Edouard, our owner, has heard your music and was impressed. He wants to know if you will be willing to play at the restaurant . "

Brick said that he would love to, in the most professional voice as possible, keeping his joy contained to merely his heart and not his mouth, and asked when he should come.

" Tonight it self would be most suitable, if possible, our regular pianist has been swept away by money and our customers often prefer music. We sincerely hope that you would not let us down. "

" I can come tonight, by what time should I be there? "

" At 6 o'clock sharp. Dress proper and don't be late."

" Of course not, thank you for informing me. "

" Your welcome. Have a nice day, " the voice replied in the most unemotional way before ending the call. Brick stared at the receiver for a moment before he put it down , and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

His mood that was sour last night became one of happiness and relief after the call. He would now have a much better salary, more so than before. Not an incredible amount, but enough to feed his family and get a new heater, along with some new clothes.

His eyes went downward to glance at his shirt from when he was in highschool and sweatpants bought to him by his mother when he was 18. He was now 26, and as such, it was a considerably long time. The old clothes had been through everything and they showed it. His shoes were even worse. His wife recoiled at the sight of his clothing, and often had demanded him to buy new clothes, but Brick used that money to buy Blaze the things he wanted.

He had a few good clothes, and the suit that he wore to his wedding, which he took care to make sure looked as if they had just been bought. His lack of new clothing was now a problem to him, as he was sure that although the man from _L'Hotel de Paris_ said nothing about the type of clothing he had to wear, when he meant proper, he meant fancy. Which meant suits. Which were expensive.

He would have to ask step brother Boomer, who had his build despite being a bit shorter. The suit might be a bit short for him, however, due to their height difference, which would be a problem. Perhaps he could ask Boomer to loan him some money?

Not for the first time, he realized how poor he was. He needed the job at that fancy French place and he could not lose it. When he went to the interview or the supposed interview where all he had to do was play music on the grand piano, he had worn one of his best formal dress shirts and a nice pair of trousers, which looked new but was old in reality .

A quick look at the old clock on the wall told him that it was only 8 a.m., hours before Blaze would wake up, but he decided to make some breakfast anyway, for himself and his wife who would most likely arrive soon. She didn't return yesterday night, nor the night before after she had left at around 5 p.m. of Monday which was 2 days ago. She usually came home by the morning of the 3rd day, having had enough of her latest fling.

Brick felt his good mood vanish slightly as he thought of his wife. She was being unfaithful to him constantly, yet he still hasn't thrown her out. His son needed a mother, although his wife was terrible at doing so, Brick stuck firm in his belief .

 _It's all my fault anyway,_ he thought.

He took out the ingredients needed for pancakes and turned on the radio, deciding to focus on the music and the pancakes rather than his wife. Once he was done, he took a pancake and ate it slowly, chewing on it for a while. His thoughts drifted to his new job at the hotel, and how he was going to have to probably wear his wedding suit today, until he got a new one with a loan from either one of his stepbrothers, Boomer or Butch.

He was interrupted from his thoughts when the bell rang. He waited to see if it was just the postman bringing bills, which he would leave after the first ring at the doorstep for Brick to receive. However the ringing continued and Brick stood up, washed his now empty plate, and went to see who it was while grabbing a glass of water to drink on the way.

It was probably his wife.

And just as he predicted, it was his wife who glanced at him for a moment.

" Hi."

" Hi," he replied impassively, moving to give her space to enter.

He didn't want to start another fight with her, as had become customary, but he couldn't resist asking the question that often led to arguments. He knew that he should be quiet and just ignore her, yet he could not. She had started having these flings only a few months ago and he still wasn't used to it. It was as if the words left his mouth automatically, without his consent.

" Where were you last night?"

" Out," she answered as she started to take off her shoes. Brick slammed the glass on the table. It clinked loudly , threatening to nearly crack. It didn't though, and Brick was secretly glad. He couldn't afford having the problem of buying new glasses while simultaneously dealing with his wife.

" Oh I know you were out, you bitch. I fucking asked you where!"

Berserk glared at him. Brick glared back.

" I don't think it's any of your business where I am or where I go to, Brick."

Her eyes were blazing with anger, as if she wanted to burn his skin with just her eyes. Brick knew his weren't any better. If possible, they were most likely worse. He could feel his teeth grinding against one another and felt his hand clench, his nails nearly drawing blood.

" Not my business, what the hell do you mean by it's not my business?! It is my fucking business Berserk! You're my wife! "

She laughed hysterically. " Wife?! Oh so, now I'm your wife! I wasn't your wife when you ignored me all those years, was I Brick?"

" You wanted me to leave you alone Berserk. Don't deny it."

" Oh perhaps. I said I didn't want you to fuck me Brick. That I would admit. But I had just gone through intense labour to birth your bloody spawn and I was fucking angry with you for putting me into that situation. I didn't really want you to completely ignore me and you know that! "

This , Brick knew was true. However, he had to deal with a job that wouldn't pay him enough for his efforts, try to feed his family and handle a young, innocent child who wanted his daddy to play with him. A young, innocent child that she completely ignored and left him to deal with , all by himself. When Berserk had been vying for his attention he was often too tired for it, and repulsed by how she acted around Blaze.

" Stop acting like a fucking child! We had a baby, a baby that you and I both were supposed to take care of. But did you for once give the child his milk? Did you ever change his diapers? Did you ever bath him? Show him love when he was asking for your attention? No, you didn't! You didn't even give him milk, we had to give him some formulae! What kind of a mother are you?!"

Berserk said nothing, finally she spat out, " That child ruined my life. You fucking ruined my life," before stomping to the stairs.

" I fucking hate you Brick Jojo," was left unsaid but it hung in the air for Brick to feel. Sighing deeply to release some of the irritation that had overcome him. He drank the water left on the glass that he had slammed in his anger, and plopped down on the couch, exactly where Berserk had sat previously and stared straight ahead without emotion, wondering what his life has come to.

A few moments after , the thought that they had been too loud began to seep into his mind. Loud enough to wake Blaze up. He really wished that that hasn't happened, but he knew that luck wasn't usually on his side when concerning his family.

" Daddy..."

A soft voice from near the stairs came . The voice was hesitant, as if it's owner didn't want to break Brick's deep concentration and Brick knew that that was the truth. His son never wanted to annoy him purposefully.

" Yes Blaze?," he asked softly, as he motioned with his empty hand for the child to come sit near him. Blaze jumped on to the couch, and stared ahead for a moment , during which Brick took the time to examine his son. After a little while, the child spoke up.

" Mommy's home."

" Yes, she is."

"...She's angry..."

Brick closed his eyes and leaned on to the back of the couch. " Yes, she is."

" Why?"

He didn't want to let his son know that his mother and father were fighting. Brick had always been careful to only fight with Berserk when Blaze was either asleep, or not at home. From that question, he gathered the information that he had not heard them fighting.

" I don't know."

He put down his glass on the floor and hugged his son. Because he really didn't know. He didn't know what was wrong with them, why Berserk hated their child, why Brick hated her for hating Blaze instead of making her love him, why he ignored her for all those years and why Berserk resorted to having relationships with other men. They all just happened. And Brick didn't know why.


End file.
